


Tonight's the Night

by jaerie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, Blood and Torture, Body Horror, Crime Scenes, Damaged Louis, Dark Harry, Death, Detective Gemma, Forensics, Graphic Description of Corpses, Graphic Description of Murder, I've added rape/non con archive warning for the past mentions, Inspired by Dexter, Lies, M/M, Misunderstandings, Murder, Murder Kink, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Psychopath Harry Styles, Secret Identity, Secrets, Serial Killers, Sex, detective liam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-20 15:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21283937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaerie/pseuds/jaerie
Summary: Tonight’s the night.  The night Harry has been waiting for.  Everything has been carefully planned, nothing left to chance, the scene set and waiting for their arrival.  It’s time.Harry lives a double life.  During the day he's Harry- trusty blood spatter analyst, at night his darkness comes out to play.  So far he's been able to act his way through a normal life without drawing attention.  What happens when that is no longer the case?Or a Dexter AU where Harry is Dexter, Liam is Doakes, Niall is Masuka and Gemma is Deb.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 29
Kudos: 207
Collections: FOUR





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you've never seen the show Dexter, please make sure to read the tags. Graphic descriptions of murder, mentions of past abuse-- just read them. Tags tags tags tags tags tags! We all love tags!
> 
> This was inspired by the song Ready to Run in the Four Fic Fest series

* * *

Tonight’s the night. The night Harry has been waiting for. Everything has been carefully planned, nothing left to chance, the scene set and waiting for their arrival. It’s time. 

The voices of a children’s choir echoed eerily over the dimly lit church parking lot, all the parents still occupied in the audience with their phones held up in front of their faces to record the moments that they’ll never watch back. The large SUVs of the upper middle class soccer moms provided more than enough cover for Harry to creep undetected through the rows all the way to the clunker that stood out where it was parked in the back corner. The old manual locks popped easily with the hook of a thin wire, too outdated to trigger any alarm. It was simple and straightforward, just the way Harry liked it to be, the way he rarely found it. But this man lived a modest, God-fearing life to anyone willing to take him at face value and his car was part of the act.

Harry wasn’t that naive. 

The doors of the church pushed open to give a glimpse of yellow artificial light, the flash repeating with the exit of each family and then held by the constant spill of people flowing out. Harry waited, patience a practiced and perfected zen. Each breath in and each breath out slow and even, a model for necessary control. 

One after another, headlights left the parking lot until only the glow of a single street light remained. It hardly touched the shadowed corner where Harry lay in wait. It was almost time. 

Each of the church windows went dark in sequence until a man appeared on the steps and turned to lock the double doors behind him. His dress shoes clacked across the asphalt in a steady rhythm, each step bringing him closer. Harry held his breath. 

The shocks squeaked with movement as the man’s weight plopped into the front seat. The jingle of keys, the stutter and then rev of the engine. Harry moved. 

It was practiced, it was swift. Like a magician’s sleight of hand, the wire looped and hooked, pinning the man back to the headrest with a pull against his neck and a choked off sound. 

The low growl of Harry’s voice made the man’s hands shake. “Drive.” 

He kept the tension of the wire across the man’s throat just tight enough to be serious and gave precise directions in a menacing whisper next to the man’s ear. Mindful of the mirror, he kept his face hidden in the shadow of the headrest, only the black of his thin leather glove covered hands and dark sleeves of his shirt in view. 

They met no passing cars on their journey up the narrow road that took them deeper into the tree cover. Eventually it forked into a driveway marked only by parallel tire tracks worn into the earth from use. It led them straight to the cabin. 

Another growled order. “Kill the engine.” 

“Please, whatever you want, just take it.” A shaky plea, a raspy beg. The sharp needle plunged into the man’s neck in a smooth, easy motion before the man could finish. His body went lax. 

This wasn’t Harry’s favourite part, but even the perfect steak required effort to prepare before it could be enjoyed. It was part of the process, part of the ritual, the reason Harry spent hours at the gym. It took every ounce of strength to maneuver the dead weight of an unconscious adult. 

When the man started to blink his eyes open, everything was in place. The plastic sheeting covering the room from floor to ceiling crinkled under Harry’s purposeful footsteps as they slowly grew closer. The fear in the man’s eyes as he tried to search for the source of the sound was exactly what Harry was looking for. He wanted him to be scared.

The plastic wrap was wound tightly around the man’s naked body, circled beneath the flat table to keep him immobile like a slab of beef on a styrofoam tray in the meat department. He was strategically wrapped over his hips and joints and a satisfied smirk pulled Harry’s lips at the sight of muscles twitching helplessly in a fruitless attempt at escape. 

“Hello Jonathan,” Harry greeted him in a low, menacing voice. 

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“I’m a manifestation of your dark side, Jonathan. I’m here for a little walk down memory lane.” Harry placed one glove covered hand on the side of the man’s face and turned it to his right. “Look, I’ve brought some friends.” 

The tarp spread out on the far side of the room was wrinkled and dirty, a stark contrast to the medical grade sterility surrounding the rest of his preparations. There was no way it could be avoided.

“Unfortunately I couldn’t invite them all, there were just too many for such a small house party and my back started to hurt from all the digging. As it is, I could only find half the pieces of one.” 

The bloodstains on the weathered bunches of clothing arranged amongst the clumps of dirt had faded to a sickly colour that no words could describe after being left to decay so long in the earth. Trembling, the man squeezed his eyes closed against the sight. 

Towering over the man, Harry slapped his hands down onto the table on either side of the man’s head with a force that made the table rock. “OPEN YOUR EYES AND LOOK OR I WILL CUT YOUR EYELIDS OFF YOUR FACE!” 

Harry had to force the man’s head to the right once again. 

“You don’t get to pretend they don’t exist, you sick fuck. Look at what you’ve done to these boys. I don’t think this was the kind of mentoring your god had in mind.” 

His pleas came in a shaky voice. “I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!” 

“They accidentally fell onto your knife the same way they accidentally fell onto your dick?” 

“I never mean for it to happen, I don’t. I just can’t help myself.” 

“Luckily for you, I can’t help myself either. I’ve just learned to focus my energy on ridding the world of men like you.” 

“No, please, I’ll do anything, give you anything you want.” 

“How generous of you. I’m already taking what I want but I appreciate the offer.” 

The sharp scalpel cut a clean line across the man’s cheek under Harry’s direction. Blood, deep red, welled along the incision and rolled down the man’s skin in satisfyingly perfect drops. He raised the thin dropper to the source. 

“Deliver me, Father, from my sins–” 

Harry rolled his eyes as he pushed a dot of blood onto a glass slide and watched as it pancaked out when he pressed the cover over top. “Don’t waste your last breath on that bullshit cover for your sick life. It won’t save you.” 

The man sputtered in shock. 

Harry widened his stance at the head of the table and raised his arms. Both gloved hands gripped the hilt of the large field knife and brought the point down to rest over the plastic wrap covering the man’s chest. The anticipation was building, the buzz of finally releasing the careful control he kept himself under every hour of every day. This was the only time he could let himself go. 

His fingers flexed on the grip of the knife and then he shoved it down. The sharp edge sank into the man’s chest like sweet, soft butter and he barely held back a moan. Blood spilled out into the layers of plastic wrap and filled all the crevasses with its rich, beautiful colour. He pushed through the resistance, but there wasn’t much. He could feel the life leaving the man in pulses and shutters while he held his stance and then the body was still under his hand. 

Harry pulled the knife out and watched the droplets fall from the tip of the blade in the middle of his euphoric state. It was the only time he ever felt something, anything. Taking a life was the only way he could live some of his own. 

The rest of the work was routine and down to a science, body parts divided into thick Hefty bags for easy transportation. Without leaving even a drop of blood behind, he carefully dismantled his kill room. The plastic sheeting made the mess easier to manage and soon the cabin looked exactly as it had before. The extra step in this kill was giving the boys his respect. He’d call in a tip so they could be returned to their families for proper burial. They’d believe Pastor Jonathan fled town with his guilt, never to be seen again. 

The heat in Miami was always persistent, but nights out on the ocean were perfect in Harry’s opinion. With the light of the skyline behind him, he headed south west out of his marina towards open water. He’d picked the spot for the deep drop off of the ocean floor, the coordinates memorized so they wouldn’t be stored in his boat’s navigation system. 

With the Hefty bags weighed down with heavy rocks, each one sank to the bottom to join the others in a watery graveyard of criminals, the collection proof of his dark urges. 

It was late when he made it back to his apartment. His bed was calling out to him, but he had one more thing to do before he finally found one night of contented sleep. 

The slide box he pulled from behind the return vent was hand carved from a dark wood and varnished to a shiny finish. He flipped the lid and ran his finger over the collection of blood slides with a small noise like the faint shuffling of cards. It’s familiar, it’s safe. They’re his only trophies, the only tangible evidence that it ever happened, the only thing left to link him to his victims. 

He slipped the most recent slide into the closest slot and smiled. 

-

Another day at the office, another day of pretending to fit in. 

“Donut?” 

Harry flipped the box open, tilting it down for one of the detectives to take their pick. Jelly filled long john. Humans were such creatures of habit. That was the key to faking it. Routine, creating a mundane existence that never stuck out, never drew attention. If he was the morning guy in the office, the rest of the day could be his own. It was the only way he could hide his darkness. 

“Donut guy!” 

Powdered sugar guy didn’t even know his name. Perfect. Smile and laugh, move along without telling him his dark shirt was now covered in a dusting of white. 

“Lieutenant, saved one of those glazed ones for you,” he winked and grinned when she gave him a sly smirk and snagged the last glazed donut from the box. 

All the key players checked off for the day. Now to hide out in the lab with his blood samples for the rest of the—

“Styles.” 

Harry stopped short when he turned around to Sergeant Payne less than a step in front of him. With his arms crossed over his broad chest and shirt sleeves barely fitting around his huge muscles, Sergeant Payne was a solid roadblock. 

“That’s my name!” Big smile, no cracks in the act. How was it that in a department full of the state’s best homicide detectives that Sergeant Liam Payne was the only one who got the creeps from him. He’d question their skills, but it worked out in his favour the way it was. 

“Where’s my blood report from the Mitchell murders.” 

No nonsense, as always. 

“I’ll have them ready for you in a jiffy!” Harry said brightly. “Donut?” 

“I don’t want your damn donuts,” Payne slapped the box out of his hands to the floor, “I want the report on the Mitchell murders!” 

“Right on it, Sarge!” 

He waited until their shoulders knocked together when Payne stormed off before picking up his box of donuts and slapping on another smile. Play the part. 

There was something about shrugging on his white lab coat that made things easier for Harry. Science is fact and facts don’t lie, facts are real. The samples showed their results, DNA was true and blood spatter patterns told a story. It was a world of absolutes that Harry could live in, that he could drop his guard in. 

No one questioned why the weird blood guy was able to analyze crime scenes so well. It was his job to do it, his job to tell the story. Nobody knew that he learned spray patterns first hand from some of his earliest victims, the messy ones when he was just learning. As far as anyone knew, he was just an expert in his field. Harry was the first one they called when there was blood on the scene.

“What are you doing?? We have to go!” 

Gemma. Sister. The only constant in Harry’s life, the only person who had his back. She was freshly promoted to homicide and had great intuition for solving puzzles. It was her specialty and she always dove in head first. Unfortunately, it was her heart that was too big for the job when it came down to it. It was hard for Harry to watch her take things so hard when dealing with the victim’s families and getting too personally invested. It was murder she was dealing with on a daily basis, but sometimes she turned it into a Lifetime movie. But it was what she knew, what the whole family knew. Their grandfather had been a cop, their dad had been a cop – it was meant to be. 

He’d barely sat down when she barged into his lab, password left half entered on the screen. 

“Go where?” 

“Crime scene, Kimpton hotel. They’re calling everyone in. Some rich asshole went mental on some hooker. Room looks like The fucking Shining.” 

Harry nodded. “Oh.”

“Oh? Come on fucker, this is your thing!” 

Leave it up to Gemma to sound excited about a murder. Harry understood why. She loved the thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of putting the bad guys away. 

It was a different story when she laid eyes on the scene. She was never able to hide her reaction. It was her biggest downfall as a detective. Her poker face left something to be desired. 

It was a good gig being the blood guy. Analyze the scene, write a report, move on. The responsibility was passed on to the detectives. It was even easier for him when it was cut and dried and luck was on his side. Double murder, suicide. He’d be done with the scene in an hour. Good thing. He had a particular errand to run over his lunch which was coming up soon. He could sneak out a little early. 

“Where are you running off to?” 

Of fucking course. Sergeant Payne stood blocking his path in his wide, powerful stance as soon as Harry had lifted the strap of his kit onto his shoulder and turned to leave. 

“Oh you know, thought I’d go try out a new cafe over by my apartment. I heard they make these little bite sized tuna salad sandwiches that I thought might hit the spot.” 

Innocent smile, shrug. Don’t look suspicious. 

“Don’t give me that look. You look like a fucking frog.” 

Harry was sure that Liam’s intense expression and presence was intimidating to anyone else that was on the receiving end of it. To Harry it was just a minor annoyance, one more obstacle to deal with. 

“Did you want me to bring you one? I’m not sure how tuna fits into that whole fitness thing you’ve got going on but I’d be happy to put in an order to-go.” 

“I’m going to find out why you’re always disappearing.” 

Liam’s glare was trained directly on him. Harry didn’t waver. 

“Ooookay? You have a nice lunch, Sarge!” 

Harry clapped him on the shoulder as he walked past and could almost hear the growl of anger. Liam may think he’s onto Harry, but he had no idea. There was no way for Liam to prove anything even if he did have something to go on. Harry was always careful about that. No hairs, no specks of blood, no witnesses. Dissecting crime scenes was his job and he was meticulous about cleaning up his own. He had nothing to worry about. 

Traffic was smooth on his drive to the cafe. He ordered his tuna sandwich and a fresh coffee before he found a table on the patio. It was off to the side which gave him a view of the other tables but also kept him out of the way. 

Harry didn’t have to wait long for his subject to arrive. Daniel Clapper, male, age 57. His bald head was shiny in the bright sunlight as he took out his newspaper and spread it out in front of himself. In a state full of retirees and tourists, Daniel’s casual posture fit right into the scenery. 

Harry knew better than to believe his innocent appearance. Evil ran through that man’s veins, the string of murders in his home town was proof of that. All high school seniors, all found strangled and naked in the woods. Daniel had been at the top of the list of suspects but since DNA testing was in its primitive stages back then, there was no concrete evidence to tie him to the crimes. He’d walked free. 

Luckily for Harry, there was enough left from the files to give him a solid DNA profile. All he had to do was collect a sample from Daniel to confirm his guilt. If it was a match, Daniel would be under his knife by next week. 

The waitress brought out his food and Harry watched as he folded his newspaper and tucked into his soup. Perfect. Each bite got him closer to confirmation. 

Harry stood and slyly slipped a new spoon out of the napkin roll on the next table over. With it hidden against his arm, he headed towards the exit of the patio which took him right by Daniel’s table. He hip checked it on the way by. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Harry apologized as the spoon clattered to the table and the soup sloshed over the side. He fumbled to help clean up the mess, switching out the spoon in the chaos of the moment. 

“Here, let me buy you a new bowl. Waitress? Another bowl of soup?” 

Harry fumbled with his wallet to keep up the act of the clumsy and flustered customer. The spoon was safely inside the plastic bag in his pocket and a few bills dropped to the table. 

“Again, I’m really sorry!” he apologized again, bumping into another table as he stepped backwards for good measure. He was gone before Daniel even had a proper response. Success. 

He was back in the lab before anyone became suspicious. 

“Whatcha workin’ on?” 

Niall. Lead forensics and one of the most foul human beings Harry had ever met. Harry casually moved a folder with his elbow to cover up his work. 

“Just a DNA sample, Niall, you know, the usual.” 

Niall plopped down on the extra chair in Harry’s lab. Niall had a knack for hanging around at the worst moments. 

“Which case? I thought we had everything in.” 

“Just something I forgot to submit. A little embarrassed about it, don’t usually slip up.” 

“Ooooh that kind of sample.” Niall winked. “STD test for your boyfriend?” 

Harry just stared at him. “What? No, of course not.” 

“For yourself then?” 

“What the fuck, Niall? Why would I do that?” 

“Do them for myself all the time. Never can be too careful, am I right?” 

Niall laughed and tried to poke him knowingly with his elbow. Harry leaned away. 

He never understood why Niall said the things that he did nor could he find the humour in it. Judging by how the rest of the office reacted to him, they only tolerated him because he was good at his job. The rest was borderline sexual harassment. He never knew when to quit. 

Harry rolled his chair back up to his desk. “I’m kinda busy here.” 

Harry was very busy. He was working his own case and every delay just made his darkness press closer to the surface. Daniel’s guilt seemed straightforward but Harry had to  _ know _ . 

“Styles!” 

The loud smack of a hand against the door frame made Harry jump. Sergeant Payne always trying to make his life difficult. Harry frowned. 

“Do you mind? Working with delicate specimens here.”

“Where’s my blood report, freak?” 

“Calm down. I put it on your desk a half hour ago.”

Payne narrowed his eyes at him. Harry stared back. 

“I’m watching you, Styles,” he said as he backed away. Of course he was, but only during business hours. Harry wasn’t weak enough to crack under his brand of intimidation, especially not from 9 to 5. 

He stuck a label onto his sample and sent it off on a rush order. He’d have his results soon enough. 

His phone rattled against the hard surface of his desk and he let his eyes shift to the preview of the message on the screen. 

Louis. Beautiful Louis. Gemma had set them up on a blind date after she locked up his abusive boyfriend after a major drug bust. They hadn’t been expecting to find him held in the house as they tore it apart and the whole precinct felt protective over him – the officers involved in the raid, at least. Louis was damaged, missing pieces of himself – something he had in common with Harry. Gemma thought Harry would be a good, stable influence on Louis. She didn’t know that Harry’s stability was a practiced front for the rest of the world. There was nothing stable about him past his exterior image. 

What Louis really needed was someone he didn’t have to be scared of. Harry could be that someone he didn’t have to fear. Harry would never hurt him. He had long ago reined his darkness in, trained it to focus on those that deserved it, those that contributed to the evils lurking amongst them. 

Louis was good, his heart was pure. He deserved better than a serial killer. 

Until then, he called Harry his boyfriend and Harry tried to be good for him. 

Dinner tonight at Louis’. Guess Daniel would have to wait. There was time. 

-

There was always something going on in Miami. It was busy and rich with culture which provided many forms of entertainment on any given night. Harry didn’t understand it himself, the constant need to be doing something. 

Humans are social creatures and the need for community activities with others was an easy way for Harry to blend in. It was normal. It was also exhausting and something Harry never looked forward to. 

“The Beach Beer Fest is this weekend. I thought we could go,” Louis said as he picked up Harry’s empty plate and walked it over to the sink. 

“I don’t drink.”

It was a true statement. Harry couldn’t afford to let his guard down and didn’t enjoy the side effects. The last time he had back in college he’d woken up with bloody hands and a hazy memory of what had happened. It had only been the neighbor’s yappy dog, but who knew what he was capable of if he let it happen again. 

Louis’ words rushed out quickly as he busied himself with the dishes. “Oh, yeah, right. Sorry, that was silly of me. Bad idea. Forget about it.” 

Harry watched the tension set in Louis’ shoulders and heard the anxiety in his words. That had been the wrong thing to say. 

“But you do,” he tried to sound upbeat, “We should go. I can be your DD. It’ll be fun.” 

Louis turned and leaned against the counter, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Are you sure? We don’t have to. I don’t want to put you in a situation you’re uncomfortable with…” 

“I don’t drink but I’m not an alcoholic, Lou. It’s fine. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.” 

It did, but not for the reasons Louis was thinking. Almost any interaction for Harry was uncomfortable. It was hard to wear his mask and think through everything he did without raising suspicion. 

“Really?”

The smile that crept onto Louis’ face was worth the inconvenience to Harry. Louis deserved happiness. 

“Yes, really. Let’s do it.” 

Louis turned back to the sink to hide his grin. “Great! I’ll get tickets tomorrow.” 

“No, let me get them. It’s not a problem. I can swing by over lunch.” 

It was always the same dance with them. Louis would offer to pay for something and Harry would insist he didn’t. Harry rarely spent much on himself and he had a decent salary. Louis had only just started back into the workforce part-time, baby steps to re-enter the world after what he’d been through. He was ashamed of it, Harry could tell, so he never brought attention to it and let it play out the way it always did. Plus, playing the role of chivalrous, sweet boyfriend was something he could do. It was easy, straightforward, and everything Louis deserved. 

It was the least Harry could do, honestly. 

Harry’s phone began to ring and he pulled it out from his pocket. 

“Harry Styles,” he answered in a professional tone after seeing the number for dispatch on the screen. They rattled off a crime scene address in his ear and he nodded out of habit. “Right. On my way.” 

He hung up and looked up to meet Louis’ sad eyes. 

“You’re leaving?” 

“Have to. Lots of blood.” 

Harry watched Louis’ face fall as he nodded. 

“I’m sorry, Lou, I really am. I’ll see you this weekend?” 

Harry stood and pushed his chair back in before shrugging into his jacket and turning towards the door. 

“Harry, wait.” 

He turned back and Louis took his hand. 

“See you later.” 

Louis pushed himself up onto his tiptoes and pressed a kiss into Harry’s cheek. Right. Affection. That was new between them. He turned his face just enough to return the gesture, Louis’ stubble soft against his lips. 

He glanced back just before closing the door to see Louis’ private smile and his fingertips raised to the cheek Harry had just kissed. He was doing well. 

-

The red and blue were already blazing when Harry arrived on the scene, yellow tape surrounding the house. Harry knew that house. 

He stared at the lights reflecting off the siding as he popped the trunk of his car and pulled out his kit. It was a stark contrast to the last time he’d seen it covered in darkness. That had been years ago with a for sale sign out front with empty rooms save for the living room staged for showings.

A group of neighbors had gathered around the barrier of cop cars, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on. Harry weaved his way past their shocked and curious faces and flashed his laminant to gain access. 

“What do we have?” Harry asked Gemma while he wiggled his fingers into a fresh pair of vinyl gloves. 

“Murder suicide from the looks of it. Neighbors called it in, said they heard shots. Newlyweds who just moved in a few months ago.” 

Harry nodded and turned into the bedroom. Blood. It covered the white walls and textured ceiling like a crimson Jackson Pollock painting, each drop telling a story. The wet, sticky pond in the center of the bedroom floor made his own heart race and he blinked into a flashback of the exact same room. With plastic sheeting covering every inch of space, it had been his own crime scene once. 

He raised his camera to photograph the beautiful gory patterns and got lost in it for a moment. The fine misting, the larger dripping splats– no one could recreate such a sight if they tried. 

“Styles!” 

Harry startled out of his daze to face Sergeant Payne’s hostile glare. 

“I know it’s like your wet dream in here but can you stop getting off for a second and tell us what happened here?” 

He glanced back at the two bodies in the room and then spoke matter of factly. 

“Looks like a gunshot wound, Sarge.” 

Harry almost laughed at Payne’s pinched expression and then stepped closer to the bed. 

“If you look at the angle, the shooter was probably standing about here and shot straight ahead while she was sitting on the bed.” Harry held his hand out to mimic a gun and pulled the imaginary trigger. “Then our shooter probably paced the room as the realization of what he had done set in which brought him here,” Harry stepped over close to where the man had collapsed on the floor and held his finger gun up under his chin, “And pulled the trigger here giving the high velocity spatter and tissue over this corner of the room. Cut and dry, really.”

Harry pulled out his camera and snapped a picture above his head. 

“You’re a sick fuck, Styes.” Payne said and stalked out of the room. 

“Just doin’ my job, Sarge!” Harry called out after him. 

“What’s his problem with you, anyway?” Gemma asked with a scowl. 

“I don’t know. He’s your partner. You of all people should know how he is.” 

Gemma gave him a strange look. Harry just lifted his camera and pressed the shutter. 

“That’s just it. He’s only like that with you.” 

“I really don’t know, Gems. Maybe he’s intimidated by my skills. Payne has always been more of the hands-on type, not the analytical type. When was the last time he closed a case he ran point on? Maybe he should have stayed in vice.” 

At least that would keep him far enough away for Harry to take a breath. Minor annoyance around the office was starting to border on hovering presence. The last thing he needed was to be on anyone’s radar, especially Payne’s. 

Gemma snorted and punched him in the shoulder. Physical banter. Harry didn’t understand its purpose, but he could play along. 

“Don’t tell Liam that. He might challenge you to a duel over his honor and reputation.”

That wouldn’t be wise. Harry would win. His reflexes were always carefully coiled and ready to spring. He’d also been perfecting his skills since he was twelve. It was second nature even if he didn’t prefer guns.

“So what are you doing this weekend? I could pick up some steaks and you could treat me to your grilling talents?” 

Food. The one thing Harry didn’t have to fake his way through. Despite his lack of emotion he could still love a good meal. 

“Sorry, can’t. Taking Louis out. Raincheck?” 

“How are you and Louis, anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with someone for so long. Do I hear wedding bells in the distance?” 

Gemma was grinning like she was expecting him to gush about Louis like a love-sick puppy. He forced a tight-lipped smile. 

“Things are good but you know Louis just got out of a bad relationship. I doubt he would appreciate you planning his wedding already. It’s just casual, anyway.” 

It’s just a cover, Harry thought to himself. Louis deserved to marry someone who could fully commit. Harry never could with his dark urges always taking priority, but Louis was nice for now. 

“Sure, whatever you say big bro,” Gemma gave him a knowing smirk while she took a few steps backwards before turning. 

The pattern of life expectations was an easy one to pick up on. Harry had flawlessly executed the first steps in the sequence – college, career, long term relationship – but he knew that was as far as he could go. When it came to marriage and kids and a house with a white picket fence, Harry knew it would be taking the charade too far. Gemma was his sister and stuck with him, but he would knowingly be bringing a wife and children into his lies. He didn’t think that was fair to them. A relationship straddled that line but was still open ended. Either of them could leave at any time. It was easier to push aside any guilt with that contingency.

He reviewed his photos of the scene and went back to snap a few more just because. Over documentation of a scene wasn’t a thing and no one would question it. Harry just thought the blood was beautiful. 

He packed up his kit, headed back home and made it through the door before the clock rolled the date.

-

“Mable! Good morning!” 

Harry opened the donut box and let the older woman take her pick while he gave her a charming smile. 

“Harry you know this isn’t good for my diet. The doctor said I needed to cut sugar!” 

“Once a week won’t kill you,” Harry said with a wave of his hand and pulled the extra chair up to her desk. “You have to indulge sometimes.” 

Harry encouraged indulging, he just happened to indulge in murdering scum bags and criminals instead of forbidden sweets. 

“Do you have anything for me today?” he asked as he bobbled the head of the figurine on her desk. 

“I might,” she grinned and balanced her cruler on the rim of her coffee mug and rolled her chair backwards. “I still don’t know why you bother with any of these.” 

She shook her head and pulled out a folder and walked her chair forward up to her desk. 

“I told you. Bloodwork and DNA has come a long way even in the last year. If I can offer anything to any of these cases to help put these people away, I’ll do it.” He flipped the folder open and glanced through it. “Plus, I know you love looking through these to add some variety to your day.” 

“You’re not wrong there!” she smiled at him. 

“Keeps you out of trouble, am I right?” He threw her a wink and scooped up the folder with his box of donuts. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

Mable might be the only person able to link him back to some of his kills if it ever came down to it. There were hundreds of unsolved cold case files in the records department and Mable had been his supplier since his first day. When she retired, he wasn’t sure he could trust anyone else enough to slip him case files off the record like she always did. 

He tried to keep his requests open, accepting files from decades before and honestly offering any assistance for cases well out of his reach. Solving a case from fifty years ago might be satisfying from a law enforcement perspective but didn’t do much for Harry’s motivation. He wasn’t interested in pulling the elderly out of hospice care to do what nature was already about to accomplish. His energy was best focused on those still able bodied and motivated to kill again. 

His donuts were gone by the time Harry unlocked his office lab to start his day. He could see Niall through the window that separated their corner of homicide making an exaggerated motion of masturbation in front of an audience of mildly disgusted expressions. There was little doubt he was describing a scene from the weirdest porno he was able to find last night, a play by play Harry had been on the receiving end of too many times to count. 

He shook his head as he shrugged on his lab coat and sat down on his stool to check his emails. 

He froze when he flipped his laptop open and then subtly flicked his eyes around him to see if anyone’s attention was on him. Luckily everyone was trapped in Niall’s performance or too focused on starting their day to notice the quick swipe of Harry’s hand across the keyboard. He schooled his expression and tucked the picture into his pocket. 

There was no coincidence in what Harry had been waiting for him, the colour print positioned deliberately on the center of his keyboard. He’d only needed a glance to know who the man was. Carlos Garcia – human trafficker who shot his victims when he didn’t get paid. Harry had hidden on his boat, releasing everyone on board to take the lifeboat to shore before taking him out. He remembered it well. 

Carlos Garcia hadn’t been on record. His on shore cover business was innocent and doing well as far as anyone was concerned. That had been an operation Harry had taken on without a tip off from law enforcement. No one knew about Carlos Garcia. 

He glanced around with just the movement of his eyes, entering his password with his body poised innocently. His years of experience had taught him to be observant but he had missed something. Someone was sending him a message, someone close. 

Niall had keys to his lab and reasons to access it when he wasn’t around. He looked over to see his coworker still going, gesturing near his chest with open hands to symbolize breasts. There was no way it had been Niall. Niall was good at his job and possessed the talent to figure it out with the right trail of evidence but not capable of such a subtle hint. 

But who else? 

Gemma had been away on vacation that weekend and it had been years ago – four to be exact. Any missing persons reports or suspicions had long since been filed away. This was deep. 

He needed to go home and check on his blood slides. If any – or all – of them were missing, it was the only way for someone to reveal the identities of his kills short of dredging the bottom of the ocean for his garbage. If he left now, he could be back in forty five minutes before anyone even noticed he was gone. 

He stood up and swung the strap of his bag over his shoulder. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Fuck. Sergeant Payne always popped up at the most inconvenient times. 

“I was—” 

Gemma appeared at the same time his phone notification pinged in his pocket. 

He pasted on a smile. “Crime scene.” 

Gemma stepped between them on her way past. “You want a ride, Harry?” 

“I’ll follow you there. Need to drop it off for an oil change over lunch.” 

He could feel Payne’s narrowed glare against his back. Sergeant Liam Payne was now at the top of his list of suspects though there were things that gave him doubt. Payne was all about justice. He was down to business and didn’t have time for games. If he had anything on Harry, surely he’d be in handcuffs in the interrogation room already. 

Once in the car, he switched off the radio and tapped on the steering wheel anxiously as he drove across town. He needed to search his apartment for signs of an intruder, but he lived in the other direction and it would have to wait.

The scene was a zoo by the time he pulled into the DollarTree parking lot. The murder rate was high in Miami, but not high enough for it to be ordinary and not draw a crowd. It was job security for Harry and a spectacle for the general public. 

Gemma was already there and in detective mode, walking around with purpose in her brown pantsuit and aviators. He was proud of what his sister had grown into from the meek and gentle kid he had known when they were young. 

He ducked under the police tape and surveyed the scene while he struggled to pull on his vinyl gloves in the humid Florida weather. His body was no stranger to a sticky layer of sweat but it didn’t make it any less irritating.

“Homeless man who went by Red,” Gemma stepped up beside him, the large pool of blood covering the asphalt almost reaching the toes of their shoes. “Employees said they kicked him out of the store a few times this morning with him rambling about somebody following him. There were a few witnesses to a scuffle and then a man ran off behind the store. Nobody got a good look.” 

Harry’s eyes followed the track of blood to where the man had collapsed. He could see the staggering pattern of a man in his last moments of life. He’d bled out in minutes. The stab wounds had been expertly placed. 

He took a few steps and that’s when he saw it – a single drop of blood that moved away from the others. 

Crouching, he pulled out a swab and collected a sample. 

“What’s that?” Gemma crouched beside him. 

“The blood of your killer. I’d be looking for a suspect with a deep knife wound. See how this moves in the other direction?” He stood and took a few steps and then pointed to another drop not far away that easily could have been overlooked. 

“Good eye.” 

Gemma nodded and headed off to put an alert out for a suspect. 

It wasn’t a good eye, it was a sixth sense. It stuck out to him like lint under a black light. Those were the things he kept to himself, the things that weren’t normal. Blending in was one of the guidelines he set for himself to stay in control. Admitting the way that blood tingled his senses would cause suspicion, especially if Sergeant Payne caught wind of it. 

He finished up and then rushed to his apartment with his heart racing. There was no backup plan if his slides were missing. Sure he had his getaway bag packed with false identities and cash hidden within the wall of his bedroom, but that was a last resort. It wasn’t practical to flee the country simply because something had caught him off guard. 

He kept his pace casual incase he was under surveillance and slipped into his apartment. After the curtains were pulled closed, he looked for any evidence that someone else had been there. Nothing stood out. 

Carefully, he pulled the cover from the vent and held his breath until his fingers touched the smooth wood of his slide box. He pulled it out and took inventory of all sixty-two pieces of glass organized in chronological order. 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. They were all there like a journal of his life. 

He pulled the slide out containing Carlos Garcia’s blood and inspected it for any sign of tampering. It was just as clear as the day he had slid it into its slot. 

He tucked the box away, replaced the cover and made his way back to work. He had more pressing crimes to solve.

-

“What’s the point of this again?” Harry asked over the noise of the crowd and live music from a stage not far away. 

“To try different beers!” Louis exclaimed. 

Harry kept a hand on Louis’ hip to keep track of him in the mass of people and moved along to the next tent he was led to. 

“But why?”

Willingly placing himself in such a crowd just to taste test beer that tasted like shit was something Harry couldn’t understand. 

“Fine! It’s just an excuse to get drunk!” 

Louis was tipsy and turned to giggle into his chest. Harry just wrapped his arms around him and held him close in a protective embrace. The pretzel necklaces Louis had insisted they purchase and wear were crumbling between them but there wasn’t much he could do about that. 

“You want to go sit down for a while?” Harry asked and was glad when Louis nodded his head. 

There weren’t many places to sit that weren’t already occupied by festival goers with paper boats of food. Harry guided Louis through the maze and found a section of grass tucked up against one of the buildings that was as calm as it could get. They were close enough to the stage that Louis could still enjoy the live band if he wanted. 

Harry took a seat with his back against the wall and was surprised when Louis settled between his legs to lean back against his chest with what Harry hoped was a happy sigh.

“This is nice. I never got to do things like this before.” 

That was how Louis always referred to his time before Harry. It was always just  _ before _ . Harry didn’t feel it was his place to ask for details unless they were offered. 

“What, sitting in the grass next to the bathrooms?” 

“Pft, no,” Louis playfully smacked Harry’s thigh. “This! Festivals and concerts and anything else going on outside the compound.” 

They were opposites in so many ways. Harry tried to avoid social interaction at all costs while Louis just longed to be out in the world with the people again. It was another sign that they weren’t compatible in the long run. They were okay for now. 

Louis linked their fingers together and rested them against his stomach with a contented noise. It wasn’t that Harry was uncomfortable with intimacy, he just didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to just sit there? Louis seemed happy doing just that so Harry followed his lead. He looked around and found that their position wasn’t unlike other couples enjoying the music and each other’s company. 

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Louis tilted his head up to smile softly at Harry. If he could feel anything positive, anything normal, he’d feel them for Louis. 

“Anytime,” Harry replied and found that he meant it. The things they did together weren’t things that Louis demanded of him yet Harry always caved just to see the pure joy on Louis’ face at finally being able to live his life. Take life from one, breathe life into another. Louis made him feel like he was balancing out the universe – his universe at least. 

It was late when Harry pulled up to Louis’ apartment building and killed the engine. Louis wasn’t helpless, but Harry had noticed that he didn’t seem as nervous if Harry walked him to the door at night.

It didn’t happen that way when Harry looked over and was surprised by Louis lunging forward to kiss him over the center console. They’d shared soft kisses on the cheek before in passing yet hadn’t moved beyond that quite yet. Louis was recovering from his abusive ex and sex just wasn’t something that was a priority for Harry. He didn’t crave the intimacy of it the way others did. 

He reciprocated the kiss, though, matching Louis’ intensity even if it was an odd angle. He tasted like beer with a hint of salt from the pretzels but was so soft and sweet. The longer they kissed, the further Louis crawled into Harry’s space until he was almost in Harry’s lap. To keep him steady, Harry wound a hand around his back. 

“Oh, um…” Louis pulled back and then quickly sat back in his seat. “Harry… I just– I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” 

Harry stared over at his blushed cheeks and a few beats passed before he realized where his hand had unintentionally landed. He probably looked like such a jerk grabbing his ass the first time they made out. 

“Yeah, no. That’s okay. I don’t mind.” 

Louis looked uncomfortable even after Harry offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. 

“I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can do that,” Louis whispered and then started to scramble out of the car. 

“Louis, wait!” Harry tried to call after him but Louis was already running to the door. He sighed and then started the car. 

-

“Happy Monday! How’s the family?” 

Harry flipped open his box of donuts over the reception desk and smiled, hands reaching in from all directions. 

“Morning, Harry!” The new receptionist greeted. He thought her name was Megan. “This came in for you.” 

Harry took the clasp envelope from her, throwing back a thanks while he moved through the department with his sweets. 

Morning greetings and small talk and then the sweet solitude of his lab. The noise from the bullpen muted as soon as his door clicked shut and he breathed out a sigh of relief. It was a lot to keep up appearances. 

Luckily there was one donut left for himself and he bit into the glazed pastry while he opened the envelope addressed to him with sticky fingers. It was probably just some test he’d ordered without a rush put on it. 

He pulled the paper out and tried not to react while he casually put it aside. Another photo. Another ghost from his kills. Christina Bryne, black widow. She’d made her way through seven husbands before Harry caught up to her. Anyone would miss the signs without the string of similarities tied together. Some of their families eventually caught on and brought their case to the authorities. By then Harry had already taken care of her and there wasn’t much they could do to someone who they weren’t able to trace. 

His mind flashed back to the scene and how her blood had dripped off the table to pool at his feet, one of his messy firsts. He’d carried it out at the beach mansion of her latest husband, his boat parked at the public dock not far from their property. It had been a long clean up but he’d left nothing behind. It was one of his obscure kills, one that wasn’t on anyone’s radar. If the first picture hadn’t been a clear sign, this one definitely was. Someone was taunting him. 

Out of the corner of his eye he observed everyone through his window. No one was watching for his reaction or acting suspicious. He slid the paper to the side and started his day like normal by checking his email. Once it wouldn’t be obvious, he turned and sent the picture through the shredder to destroy it’s existence as he had with the other. 

Someone was playing a game with him and he needed to find out who. He’d be in handcuffs right now if any evidence was truly out there, but Harry knew there wasn’t. He’d been careful, always careful. 

“Brother!” Gemma threw the door open and exclaimed the greeting.

Harry spun around in his chair with a hand over his heart. “Jesus, Gems! Forget how to knock??” 

“Whatever, it’s not like this is your bedroom and I might walk in on you jerking off or something. Unless that’s what you’re doing in here? Because damn that’s ballsy! There are windows!” 

“I’m not jerking off in my office,” Harry scowled. “What are you doing in here, anyway?” 

“It’s crab night. Thought you and Louis might want to double with me and this guy I’ve been seeing.” 

Double dating. The only thing worse than single dating. It was already awkward enough trying to fake it through a normal dinner date. 

“Sorry to ruin your plans but me and Louis aren’t exactly in a place to go out to dinner right now.” 

“What did you do?” Gemma asked immediately. 

“Why do you assume I’m the one that did something?”

“Because you always fuck things up as soon as anything starts to get serious!” 

He couldn’t argue with her that he was the one to end things, she just didn’t know that he did it on purpose. With Louis, It hadn’t been on purpose. It had actually been an accident. 

“There was a misunderstanding and I haven’t heard from him,” he admitted instead. 

“Did you go after him?” 

“Go after him? Why would I do that?” 

“You’re such a dumbass!” Gemma slapped him upside the head, “Go after him and apologize!” 

“Jesus, Gems! Do you have to be so aggressive all the time?” 

“Until you learn some sense, yes.” 

Harry rubbed his head and glared. He didn’t have a lot of references for sibling behaviour but he was pretty sure they didn’t come with physical abuse in a professional setting. 

“Go apologize and then all you can eat crab legs, got it?” 

“Yeah yeah,” he muttered as she left his office. 

He had bigger things to worry about than Louis. Someone was on to him – or thought they were – and he needed to stay ahead of the game. Louis could wait. 

Carefully, he cut a section of the envelope adhesive. If he was lucky, he’d find the DNA of the person who had licked it shut. If it was someone in the department, he’d easily find a match. 

He pulled out his supplies and got to work. 

-

Sending a DNA sample through as priority was something that would, without a doubt, throw up some red flags. They didn’t have any pressing cases that would warrant such a test and the last thing he needed was attention drawn to himself. He also didn’t want it brought to anyone’s attention that the case number he’d listed wasn’t one relevant to anything he was working on. He couldn’t take any risks in his daily life. 

So instead, he risked another day of being exposed and started his own investigation. First on his list was to inspect all routes to the marina where he kept his boat to catch any possible cameras he may have missed or that had been installed recently. To do this, he’d have to be careful, be invisible. 

He dressed himself in dark clothing but not all black, just normal enough to not seem suspicious if he encountered anyone along the way. He gathered his tools of the skulking trade, grabbed his hoodie and pulled open the front door. 

Stopping so short he nearly fell forward, Harry came face to face with a shocked and surprised Louis standing on his welcome mat. 

“Louis!” he rocked back on his heels, hand still on the doorknob. He’d been caught off guard which meant he was making mistakes during the time he should be most aware. He was slipping. 

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have showed up here,” Louis looked down and shifted his weight from foot to foot anxiously. 

“No, it’s okay, come in. I was just running out for some groceries is all.” 

Harry stepped back and invited Louis in with a wave of his arm. Louis rarely came over to his apartment. Harry was usually the one picking Louis up which made his apartment the spot they usually ended up in. That and Louis didn’t have a trunk of knives or blood slides of his murder victims hidden like a beating heart beneath the floorboards. It was safer to spend their time elsewhere. 

“I’m really sorry about the other night,” Louis started once the door was closed. 

“That’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“No, I was surprised and I overreacted. You wanted that and I pushed you away.” 

“It’s okay, Louis, I really don’t need anything. I am completely fine with—”

“No, don’t. We’ve been together for a while now and it’s normal for you to want to take things further.” 

Harry didn’t know how to have this conversation. It had always just been a given in his past relationships. He did it when it was requested, when it was prompted, and that was it. He didn’t crave the intimacy that a quick wank in the shower could fulfill. 

But not wanting sex wasn’t the normal response. Telling Louis he didn’t want it would throw up a red flag. 

“You don’t have to do anything for me, Louis. All of that can be on your timeline, I’m not the one who went through what you did.” 

He watched Louis’ face carefully, trying to gauge how much to say. 

“That’s just it. I don’t want any of that to control me anymore. I want to put everything behind me and start living and feeling again like a normal person.” 

_ Don’t we all, _ Harry thought. Things would be so much easier if he could just feel like a normal person, live his life like a normal person without the darkness lingering behind his every move. 

Louis crowded him backwards until his calves hit the couch. A slight push and Harry bounced down on the cushion, the small tools in his back pocket digging into his backside. 

“Louis, you really don’t have to–” 

“Please. I want to.” 

The wide, vulnerable eyes that looked up at him stopped Harry from protesting. His rejection just might shatter Louis in the moment. 

Fingers moved to fumble with Harry’s jeans and he lifted his hips when Louis pulled just enough to pull him out. It was so different from the lust driven encounters of his past. It was difficult to match their enthusiasm with something believable when the only thing he really understood was the orgasm. Louis took his time with soft, wandering hands. By the time he lowered his mouth to wrap his lips around the head, Harry was wound up more than he’d ever been. He reached out to slide his fingers through Louis’ hair on instinct and it was the first time he didn’t have to think out every action before he did it. 

When he came, it was genuine surrender. 

“Holy shit,” Harry muttered when Louis pulled back. The blush and shy grin on his face made Harry want to reach out and pull him close. That alone caused his thoughts to hiccup. He’d only ever done that because he thought he was supposed to, not because he’d wanted it. 

Louis crawled up and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek before curling up against his side. 

“Do you want me to…?” Harry wrapped an arm around him to pull him close but didn’t yet make a move. 

“No, I’m not ready for that yet. Soon.” 

Harry nodded and tucked himself back in. 

“You’re amazing,” he whispered against Louis’ hair. 

He wasn’t supposed to get attached. His safety was at risk –  _ their _ safety was at risk. Still, he knew enough not to kick Louis out the door after that. His mind raced with the thought of all the places his activities could have been caught on camera.  _ That _ was priority. But instead, he stayed on the couch with Louis warming his side. 

-

Tonight’s the night. 

It was really the last thing he should have been doing without knowing who was on the other side of the picture game. Ironic that what should be keeping him cautious was the same thing that drove him to need release. 

His kills had always been his own. The research, the prep, the abduction– Harry had sole ownership in every step. Each criminal that silently vanished off the street became Harry’s with nothing left but a blood slide stored away in his personal directory. He felt violated that a stranger had gained access to his sacred world and flaunted the knowledge in front of him. It made his jaw clench. 

He took it out on the body in front of him. Rich frat boy had daddy’s lawyers get him out of everything he’d ever done in his playboy life. Wrecking sports cars after a bender had become a hobby with no care for the body count he left behind. His last set of charges had just been dismissed over some mishandled paperwork while the smug asshole stared down the prosecutors with a quirked brow that said “I did it but you’ll never catch me”. 

He deserved everything he got. 

Harry stared down into the terrified eyes as he held the knife. He wasn’t usually one to play with his victims, but he needed to feel alive. He rested the blade against the kid’s neck to feel the movement of his quickened breath and nervous swallowing transfer through the handle and up his arm. Harry was the one in charge of when all of that would end. 

When the moment came, Harry drew the sharp edge across his throat and watched as blood immediately spilled from the clean line. It was esthetically pleasing and he was mesmerized by the flow. The sputtering of attempted gasps were routine and Harry listened for them to change, to slow and rattle towards the end. It was then that he looked down into his eyes, watching the final moments as any trace of life faded away. It was rare for him to have time for such intimacy with a kill and it set his teeth on edge to indulge. The release he felt was like a drug. 

He was tying up the last heavy duty hefty bag when his phone rang from his pocket. Usually it was turned off to stop any possibility of it being traced, but he was off his game. 

He pulled it out and looked at the screen. Louis. He answered without hesitation. 

“Hey Lou, what’s up?” he answered and was only met with the sound of sobs. “Louis? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“He called,” Louis managed to get out, “I don’t know how he found me or got my number, but he called.”

Harry looked at his neatly wrapped packages and bit his bottom lip. He couldn’t just leave them in the kill room. He couldn’t leave them in the back of his SUV either. 

“I’ll um be right there,” he said against his better judgement – from the perspective of his code, anyway. 

This wasn’t a situation he’d ever had to face before. There had always been clear lines between his daily interactions and his own time. He looked at the bags again and knew that not following through his meticulous process from start to finish was something he would never do. So why was he pondering it now?

He didn’t have time to think about it. 

The bags fit down into the space where a spare tire would normally be stored, covered and out of sight. He’d go visit Louis and then take care of things. 

When he arrived, Louis cautiously answered the door with puffy red eyes that he wiped with the sleeve of his oversized sweater. 

“Do I need to call the station?” Harry asked as he securely locked the door behind him. “I can have patrol keep an eye on the apartment complex.” 

“No, I don’t need a babysitter. It was a call from prison,” Louis sniffed. 

He looked so small folded in on himself. Harry took a few hesitant steps forward. He opened his arms just enough for an offer -- he figured that was an appropriate response to a crying boyfriend. Louis curled up against his chest immediately and the sobs Harry had heard over the phone started up again. He rubbed his hand gently up and down his back in what he hoped was a soothing way. Louis didn’t deserve the emotional stress. 

“They’re letting him out,” Louis whispered once he was able to speak and Harry’s arm had fallen asleep holding him. 

“What? How?” 

Harry had been at that sentencing. It had not been a light one. 

“In a few months. He made a deal to testify against the people who were bringing the drugs into the country. What am I going to do?” 

Louis voice was weak and terrified, a handful of Harry’s shirt in his fist. 

“We’ll figure it out.” 

-

Harry’s face was hot and a blinding light made it difficult to open his eyes. He blinked against the morning sun streaming through the window and was immediately disoriented. The blackout curtains on his own windows never left him in such an uncomfortable position and neither did the weight on his body warming him like a furnace. 

Fuck. Louis. 

He wriggled his arm away to check his watch and then bolted upright. Ten in the morning. He was late for work and even later for his date with the dismembered body in his trunk. He’d have to call in sick. There was no way to avoid it. 

“Lou. Louis.” Harry gently shook his shoulder to wake him and only received a groan. “Lou I have to go to work.” 

He pushed himself out from under Louis as gently as he could and then scrambled for his keys. His friend wouldn’t last long in the Miami heat that would soon turn his car into an oven. 

His phone was dead and it immediately started ringing the moment he plugged it into the charger in his car. He answered it quickly. 

“Styles. Where the hell are you? You have court in an hour. I’m not letting this guy get off because you couldn’t get your ass to the courthouse!” 

Fuck. He’d forgotten all about that. His friend would just have to wait. 

He sped home to change into something more presentable for the witness stand and then wove his way through traffic to the station to pick up the files he needed. 

It was close, but he made it. Sergeant Payne fixed a scowl onto him as soon as he sat down and kept his narrow eyed stare on him the entire time. It should have unnerved him, but he was used to it by now. Plus, his instincts were spot on. Harry just couldn’t let him know that. 

He smiled and waved instead, smoothing his hair back as he waited to be called to the stand. 

Even with the distraction waiting for him in his car, Harry made it through with practiced professionalism, presenting his scientific evidence clearly. 

He slipped out as soon as he was able. Payne’s eyes tracked him to the door and Harry didn’t have time to deal with what that meant. He didn’t have time to deal with anything. 

He loosened his tie as he sped towards his marina, sweat gathering along his hairline and beneath his suit jacket from more than just the humidity. This was stupid. He’d never been so stupid. Not even with his first kills. 

It was broad daylight when anyone could observe his activities. It wasn’t a good idea, but what choice did he have? If the bags weren’t so airtight there would already be a light smell lingering in the car, a few more hours and there definitely would be. 

His phone rang. It was Gemma. 

“Hey, can’t talk right now.” 

“Where the hell are you? They’re letting Louis’ scumbag ex out of prison over some long shot testimony that isn’t going to pan out to shit.” 

“Yeah, I know. He called Louis last night.” 

“He called him? Fucker has a restraining order against him! Want me to present that to keep him in?” 

“I don’t know, Gems. I think Louis would rather not get law enforcement involved. He’s already been through a lot.” 

“I guess, but we really could use something to keep him behind bars.” 

“Yeah, I’ll ask Louis, but I really have to go. Talk later.” 

He hung up the phone and turned into the parking lot of his marina. There was no one around, as always, but that didn’t make him feel any better about what he was about to do. 

Two trips was barely enough to load the boat. He was just hoisting the last bag over the side when someone popped up from the deck next to his. 

“What you up to, sailor?” 

The man was too cheerful for Harry but he knew how to slip into character. 

“Just skipping out on work to enjoy the nice day!” Harry saluted with one of his plastered on smiles. 

“What you got in those bags there? Looked pretty heavy.” 

“Oh just a bunch of ice. On the way to pick up the girlfriend and some beverages.” 

The man nodded but didn’t quite seem convinced. There had never been chatty boat owners at this marina. Of course they had to pop up now. 

“Well, I’m off!” 

Harry gave a wave and untied as quickly as he could without looking too suspicious. He probably already did. 

He went out further than his usual dumping ground just to be safe. The buildings along the coast were smaller than usual which made it less likely some kid had a telescope trained on the water. It was a longshot, but Harry tried to think of every possibility. 

The clean up would have to wait until later. His phone was out of range out on the water and he had message piled up when he got back to shore. Maybe he was more noticeable than he’d thought. He had a book of excuses at the ready for things like this and hoped it would be fine. It would be if the source of the pictures wasn’t on to him and his disappearing act. 

Still sticky under his dress clothes, he sank into his chair and pulled up his emails. Half the department was out at a crime scene which gave him a few minutes to collect himself. 

It was just after he’d started to cool down that he saw it. There, with the edge tucked into the frame with a picture of his family at Gemma’s graduation, was another printed photo. 

He remembered that face with the same vivid memory he remembered all the faces, the way he associated them with a drop of blood on a slide. Number forty-seven, each one ticked off the list in a slow trip down memory lane. He couldn’t crack, he couldn’t show any reaction. 

When no one was watching, he plucked it out of the frame and stuck it into his folder. How long until they upped their tactics? How long until someone showed up with handcuffs? What did they know? 

He pulled his fingers through his hair and wracked his brain. Who was doing this to him? 

He’d become complacent, too comfortable in what he was doing. Somewhere he’d slipped up and it was no one’s fault but his own. Still, he had to get ahead of them, had to shut this down. It wasn’t probable that there were fingerprints on the photo, but he had to check. Anyone who worked in the building was fingerprinted as part of the hiring procedure. 

If he was lucky enough to find one, he’d know exactly who was behind this. 

-

Louis was like a daylily. He opened up and bloomed with the rise of the sun and wilted back into himself when he could no longer draw joy from the light. Harry noticed this almost immediately about him. Darkness brought with it anxiety and hesitation for Louis, ghosts of his former life looming in the shadows. Louis tried to hide it, tried to cover it up, but Harry could tell. He’d been learning his cues from observing others for far too long not to notice his tells. 

Harry was the opposite. Harry thrived at night. He allowed himself to drop his facade once the sun dipped below the horizon, once he wasn’t on display. And when he wasn’t alone, he was able to hold Louis together when it became overwhelming. It was a role he never thought he’d find himself in, but he thought he was doing a decent job. 

“How did I get so lucky?” Louis asked as he played with their linked fingers. “You’re so sweet and kind and patient. I never thought I’d have any of that.” 

Harry never thought he’d have any of that either. He’d never really thought of having much of anything when it came to his relationships. He didn’t have the heart to shatter Louis’ image of him with the truth. He couldn’t if he wanted to keep up his cover. He could never tell him that the things Louis liked about Harry were all strategically learned responses and actions. 

“That’s just what you deserve.” Harry smiled down where Louis was curled against his chest as they watched a film on tv. 

From the outside, Harry’s carefully cultivated image was exactly what Louis deserved. What Louis didn’t deserve was another boyfriend in prison, another boyfriend who fed him lies. At least Harry’s intent was not malicious. He wasn’t using Louis as a pawn or farming him out to drug lords as a form of payment. He wasn’t using love as a way to guilt him into staying. Harry would end things before Louis got hurt. He would make sure of that. Weeks with no answers to go with his new clues, but he wouldn’t wait until he was in cuffs to let Louis go if it came to that. 

The pictures had started showing up more frequently. Always in his office or slipped through the letter slot of his apartment door. He’d picked the location of his apartment building because of the lack of security cameras and other surveillance in the complex and surrounding areas. There wouldn’t be anything to indicate who it was. They knew where he lived but that could be accomplished by an easy records check at work. They had to be transparent at work so they could quickly be ruled out if they left any trace evidence while investigating a scene and for many other reasons. 

Harry was getting nervous. There was no doubt this person had extensive knowledge of Harry’s activities at this point. At first it could have been coincidence. He could brush it off as a strange fluke if he committed himself to it. Somewhere along the way it had become a pattern and they were closing in. 

There was the wife who killed the woman her husband was having an affair with that was let off on a hung jury. There was the man who had chopped his wife up and scattered her body parts along the highway still free with only circumstantial evidence to tie him to the crime. There was the guy with a string of girlfriends who kept dying in unfortunate household accidents. There was the woman who was brought to trial after her fourth toddler had passed away that was dismissed after mishandling of evidence. The list was growing. 

“Harry?” He was brought back from his thoughts to Louis looking up at him with big eyes while his finger traced patterns on his chest over his tshirt. “I think I’m ready.” 

“Ready?” he asked and watched a rosy blush appear along Louis’ sharp cheekbones as he bit his lip and looked down. 

“Yeah.” 

Louis hand trailed down Harry’s stomach and then rested over the zipper of his jeans. Oh. That’s what he meant. He hadn’t prepared himself for that possibility when he agreed to come over. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” 

Harry watched him slowly unbutton his jeans and drag the zipper down and he had to admit that it was – at least a little bit – arousing. It usually took a conscious effort to get in the mood when it came to physical intimacy for him so he was pleasantly surprised. Maybe it had been the ease of being able to let himself go during the blow job that had his body primed for more. He just let himself get hard when Louis pulled him out like it was that simple. 

It was made clear that Louis had actually been thinking about it when he pulled lube and a condom from where they’d been stashed between the cushions of the couch. 

“I got myself ready before you came over,” Louis whispered while he kissed Harry’s neck and teased him with long strokes. Harry swallowed hard. 

Prep was always one of the awkward points of sex for him. It was difficult for him when his partner was into the process and he was just – not. Sex was easiest for him if he could just stick it in and get it over with. The small rush of pleasure was never worth inevitable partner clinging to him for a sweaty cuddle after. 

But walking away or not being interested would make him stand out. 

With Louis, a surprising tingle ran down to his dick at the thought of Louis preparing himself for him. Louis couldn’t have known, but already made this a better experience for him. 

He let Louis take the lead and rolled with the direction it was going. With most of their clothing still on, Louis rolled the condom over his dick and then crawled into his lap to straddle him. 

He gripped Louis’ hips and watched as his beautifully broken, vulnerable Louis fell apart as he sank until he was fully seated with Harry in deep. There was hesitation and nervousness, but Harry just held him through it until he was ready to move. 

There was a hint of something unfamiliar surging in his chest and he didn’t feel the urge to push Louis’ hand away when it wove its way into his hair or when he gripped onto Harry’s shoulder with a gasp. It actually felt good. He actually liked watching Louis find pleasure with his body. 

He watched Louis’ hand stroke himself when he was close and it only took a few thrusts up for Harry to follow. It was the most mutual sexual experience he’d ever had and didn’t even mind when Louis rested against his chest after. 

-

The next time he saw Louis, he had a renewed energy in his smile. There was an electric twinkle like lightning in his eyes when he saw Harry and ran over to jump into his arms. He could feel the happiness radiating off his body while Harry felt like a sinking boat with his time running out. 

Another string of pictures had shown up in his office and he was just as clueless as he had been before about the culprit. 

He pushed it out of his mind while he let Louis guide his body through a round of heated sex and savoured the reprieve. 

It came back to him once Louis had fallen asleep against his naked chest. He didn’t mind the skin to skin contact with Louis. Louis was soft and light instead of a sticky dead weight like he was used to. He even let his fingers wander to play in Louis’ hair. 

He’d have to give Louis up soon. It was a startling realization to find that he was reluctant to cut the strings that held him to the sweet creature holding onto him so tight. Since his parents were gone, Gemma had been the only person he’d struggled to place in a scenario where he was caught or had to run. Romantic relationships had always been the easiest to write off. 

But he’d become attached to the smallest things about Louis without even realizing it had happened. The curl of Louis’ long eyelashes against his cheek as he slept was endearing to Harry in a way he’d only ever felt in theory. The perfect curve of his eyebrows that led to the bridge of his nose, the dusting of red in his facial hair that grew in nicely if he didn’t shave for a few days, that one piece of hair that never stayed put on his forehead that he was constantly fixing – he added another to the list each time he looked down. 

There was a scar on Louis’ back that he’d never talked about, but Harry knew what it was. He traced the lines with a light finger and watched the goosebumps rise on his skin. It was a brand, a physical reminder of the person that had decided he owned Louis like some type of farm animal. It was the same symbol that was stamped on bricks of cocaine seized from the house.

Dark rage bubbled inside him when he thought about not being there when that asshole was released from prison. It was different from the itch that had been building since his last kill. His need to see the life fade from someone at his hand was to feed his own selfish hunger and need for control. This was spawned from something entirely different. It was the need for revenge over what Louis had been through, it was the need to protect Louis so he didn’t have to worry about it himself. He knew those thoughts would linger if he left. Lasting attachments weren’t something Harry was used to handling. 

Harry tried to write it off as post-sex feeling, but his theory didn’t hold up when he felt the same way even without an orgasm involved. He surveyed the department subtly through the window of his lab and attempted to telepathically find the person who was tormenting him. In the meantime, he had to be prepared for the worst. 

“Hey Gems, I have some papers for you to sign.” 

He strolled up to his sister’s desk and tried to seem casual about it. He’d brought one of the notaries employed in the building to come with him who now stood at his side. 

“What the fuck is this?” she asked as she opened the folder and glanced over the words. 

“Just some legal stuff I should have had in place before now. It just places you in charge of my finances in the event of my untimely death or any other situation that would leave me unable to make those decisions myself.” 

“Fucking buzzkill! Are you expecting to die soon or something?” 

“Calm down, it’s just a precaution. Now can you sign?” 

The notary went through the process and then went on her way. Harry tucked the folder under his arm. Gemma caught his wrist. 

“What’s going on?” she asked in a hushed tone. 

“I told you, it’s just a standard thing to have in place when doing any financial or life planning.” Harry shrugged and plastered on what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “It’s the worst case scenario plan. I just want to know someone I trust would be in charge.” 

“Aw! That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me!!” Gemma threw her arms around him in a tight hug. His arms remained at his sides as he went stiff in the embrace. 

“Okay, okay, stand down. It’s just legal bullshit.” 

She gave him another squeeze before letting him go. He stood there awkwardly for a moment and then gave a tight lipped smile and turned towards his office. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that there was another picture waiting for him. 

-

“He gets out in less than a week.” 

Louis didn’t lift his head when he said it and didn’t offer more information. They both knew who he was talking about. 

He’d stopped over at Louis’ apartment early with donuts before work. Somehow chocolate frosting and Boston creme had turned into Harry pulling them off together in one hand and then basking in the afterglow together in the light of the morning sun. Harry was really starting to enjoy this sex thing. 

“I’ve been talking to my family a lot. Reconnecting, you know?” Louis had told him about being cut off from his family after being lured to Florida under false pretenses. He’d been there during the first anxiety-filled call weeks after Louis had been plucked from the house during the raid. It was the first serious thing Harry had stood by him for and Louis had been convinced it would scare him. It had the opposite effect. 

“They think it’s a good idea for me to move back to Michigan. He won’t be allowed to leave the state once he’s out. They think it would be safer for me there.” 

It was a logical suggestion. Louis would be safer in another state, somewhere he wouldn’t be so accessible. It would also keep him away from Harry’s destruction and ultimate demise. 

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said and then pressed a kiss into his hair. 

“It would be really far from what I have here. Far from you.” 

Louis looked up at him timidly and Harry gave him a gentle smile. 

“You’d have your whole family to be with, to look after you. You’d do great there.” 

Something in Louis’ expression fell before he rested his cheek back on Harry’s chest. “Yeah, I guess.” 

Michigan would put miles between them to shield and protect Louis while Harry made sure the scum of life never had the ability to track Louis down. It was a compromise he could make with himself.

Harry almost missed the soft murmur of Louis’ voice. “I’d have to leave before Monday.”

“That’s plenty of time,” Harry said optimistically. Louis lived in a furnished apartment so there wouldn’t be much to pack up. “I can help you pay for a last minute flight.” 

“Right.” Louis said softly with one nod before he sat up. “You’re going to be late for work.” 

Harry glanced at his watch and saw that he was right. “Thanks Lou,” he said as he pressed a kiss to his temple and scooted off the bed to find his clothes. 

With his sunglasses perched on his nose, Harry drove into the heat of the Miami sun. Having Louis safe in Michigan would be one less worry while he attempted to dig his way out of whatever hole he’d fallen into. It made him breathe easier now that there was a plan. 

Of course there was another ghost waiting for him when he got to the office. It was getting to him, he was cracking. 

He crumpled it up in his fist and knew there was a hint of rage set in his features that he could no longer hold back. He looked up through the lab window and immediately made eye contact with Sergeant Liam Payne. With his wide power stance and muscular arms crossed over his chest, he stood as a solid presence across the room while his laser focus drilled into him. There was enough distance between them that no one appeared to notice the exchange, but it was only meant for him. 

Payne. Of course it was fucking Payne. In the back of his mind he’d always known it would be him. Sergeant Liam fucking Payne who could never let anything go, could never just let him be. 

His jaw clenched as they challenged each other with narrowed eyes. His next moves were limited, but he would not let himself be taken down easily. Yielding to intimidation was not in his nature, especially when he didn’t know what evidence Payne had against him. 

They were all called into a crime scene so Harry grabbed his kit and rushed into the elevator with the group of detectives, the door closing with Payne’s glare fixed on him. 

He was jittery and sloppy out in the field prompting unwanted attention. He hated being caught off guard, carefully planned his whole life around no surprises. The pressure was getting to him and he needed to pull himself together. 

“You okay there? You look like you’ve never seen a gunshot wound before.”

Gemma slapped him on the shoulder with a laugh. He really hated that. 

“I’m fine. Just dehydrated, I think. Couldn’t sleep last night either. I’ll grab some lunch and some water and be good as new!” 

He forced on a smile and knew it wasn’t up to par even before Gemma’s skeptical look. 

“I promise. Just been a rough day. Louis’ moving to Michigan.” 

There. Throw some heartache into it and get some sympathy working in his favour. 

“Oh shit, really? I thought things were better between you two.” 

“Yeah, they were –  _ are _ . But  _ you-know-who _ is getting released and his family thinks it would be safer for him to be up there with them. And I agree.” 

“I could put a protective detail on him, get that creep back behind bars if he tries to make any move.” 

“Thanks, Gems, but it’s not fair or practical to put him under surveillance. He’s just starting to live his own life again.” 

Gemma sighed. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe it can be a temporary thing until we find another reason to lock him up.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” He packed up his kit and then hooked the strap over his shoulder. “I’m going to grab some lunch and get these back to the lab.” 

The sweet sanctuary of his SUV, the brief moments he could be alone throughout the day. He rolled his shoulders back and then let them drop as he blew out a frustrated breath. There had to be something he could do. 

He pulled out of the parking lot and noticed it almost immediately. For being a professional, Sergeant Payne was being the most obvious tail. Maybe it was just Harry being hyper aware of his presence. Just to be sure, he took a few shortcut turns and watched the charcoal grey Charger make the same turns just seconds behind him. 

Fuck. 

He drove straight back to the office. 

There were always more murders after a full moon which kept Payne occupied for the rest of the day. Harry worked with stressed induced efficiency, tearing through reports and sample prep without pause. 

“Hey hey, slow down! You’re setting the bar too high! They’re going to expect this from us everyday if you keep it up!” 

Niall. The last person he needed to add to the noise in his head was Niall. 

“Maybe if you didn’t watch so much porn in your office you’d be able to actually get something done,” Harry muttered

“Mean,” Niall wrinkled his nose but didn’t dispute it. 

“Can you just– I’m kind of busy here.” 

“Fine,” Niall held up his hands, “I just wanted to see if you knew anything about the big project Sergeant Payne is bringing in. 

Harry almost dropped the vile in his hand, fumbling it before capturing it pressed against his chest. 

“What big project?” His voice sounded higher with a hint of panic. He cleared his throat and tried it again. 

“No one knows but it’s something to do with cold case files. Patrick thinks our solve rate has dropped too low so they’re dredging up old cases for new leads. That’s going to be a lot of work if we have to start retesting old evidence files.” 

“Yeah, sure will be.” 

Payne was raising the steaks. It wouldn’t take long to piece together a pattern of suspects listed as missing persons if they started combing through cold case files en masse. Was this his warning? What was Payne trying to do? 

It was late by the time Harry left the station. He turned onto the street and didn’t miss the flash of headlights that fell into line behind him. Payne was tailing him again. That swiftly snuffed out his plans for the night. He turned towards Louis’ instead. He could play boring and predictable to make sure Payne was wasting every second of his time. 

“Wasn’t expecting you tonight,” Louis said on his way back to the couch after opening the door for Harry. His open laptop was waiting on the cushion and he pulled it back into his lap once he was settled. 

Harry shut, then locked the door behind him and kicked off his shoes. “Didn’t end up working as late as I thought I would.”

Louis nodded with a hum of acknowledgement but he seemed too distracted to have actually heard what he said. 

Harry took a seat beside him. “What are you working on?” 

Louis didn’t look up from the screen as he pulled at his bottom lip. “Looking at rental trucks.” 

“For the move?” 

Sighing, Louis closed the lid of his laptop and pushed it aside. 

“Who am I kidding? I don’t have enough stuff to need a truck.” 

“Did you want to drive up there instead of flying? I think we get some pretty good discounts on rentals for being law enforcement.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Louis leaned into him, resting his temple on Harry’s shoulder. “I’m just nervous, I guess. I don’t know how they’re all going to look at me now after they know what happened. They don’t really know the details, but they know. It’s going to be weird. I feel like a different person now but I don’t want them to think I need coddled.”

“Then just tell them that. Get it over with at the beginning and it’ll be fine.” 

Louis was quiet for a minute, taking Harry’s hand and linking their fingers together. “I wish you were coming with me. He already took so much from me and now he’s taking me away from you.”

“It’s to keep you safe from him,” Harry reasoned, “You’ll never have to worry about him again up there.” 

“Kiss me,” Louis pleaded, pulling his face down to initiate a passionate kiss that left Harry struggling to catch his breath. 

They’d twisted so Harry was looming over him on the couch, his pink cheeks and swollen lips pulling him back in. 

“Please,” Louis begged and bucked up so their arousal ground together. “I want you so bad.” 

It felt desperate, each of them working from a different set of fears and energy. Harry fingered him open in long, teasing strokes and got lost in the way Louis gave himself over. The hesitancy, the nervous tension, the second guessing – none of it was there this time. It was powerful in a new way to Harry to have control over someone’s body without the intention of taking their life. Louis writhed and squirmed on his fingers to the symphony Harry was conducting and it was intoxicating. 

It had always just been a necessary act with his past partners, something he had to get through to make it to the end. He felt something different with Louis. It wasn’t just the orgasm he wanted when he hooked his elbows beneath Louis’ knees and slid in, he wasn’t just going through the motions to get it over with. 

He was learning to manipulate Louis’ body with his own, to render him unable to speak from pleasure. It fueled him to think that he could do this again, to have control over and over again in a way that he never could with death. 

Louis was moaning, screaming out his name with every thrust, begging him for more. It was addicting and he grunted with each hard punch of his hips until Louis clenched down around him and came all over himself, beautifully untouched. Harry had done that. 

Later, as they snuggled together in Louis’ bed, Harry had a hard time separating out the pieces of himself he’d planted with Louis to create a believable cover and which ones had grown up like invasive vines in the middle of this mess. 

“Will you come with me to Michigan?” Louis asked when the darkness had settled around them. 

He should have expected the question to come, should have anticipated the sincere way it was spoken, but it caught him by surprise and he chastised himself for yet another slipup. 

“We’ll see,” he answered softly, though he knew he wouldn’t be joining Louis in Michigan. He couldn’t. 

“I love you,” Louis whispered. 

Harry pretended he was already asleep. 

-

Louis was set to leave in the morning. 

Harry had gone out and bought him a new luggage set that they could fit everything into and assured him that checking extra bags was cheaper than renting a car or shipping everything up north. Their time together was filled with obvious tension and Harry stuck his foot in his mouth with every turn in conversation. 

He’d never had to say goodbye to someone that mattered before. He wasn’t sure what to say. 

The sex had been good, rolling around together until Louis finally insisted they try to get some sleep. That part had been nice. 

But come morning, Louis would be miles above him, crossing the country to a place Harry had never been. The thought of it hadn’t left him in a very good mood. 

“No donuts today?” Gemma teased when he came into the office looking as disheveled as he felt. Everything was falling apart around him and he needed to get a grip. Soon. 

“Fuck off, Gems,” he muttered on his way past. 

“Woah woah woah,” Gemma followed him as he stalked to his lab, “Is this because Louis left? Because that doesn’t mean you can take it out on me. I’ll call you out on your bullshit and right now, this is bullshit.” 

“Louis is Leav- _ ing _ . Meaning in the morning. Nobody gave you a license to comment on my bullshit. I have a lot going on right now so I’d appreciate it if you’d let me get to work.” 

“He’s leaving tomorrow? I thought he already left. Want me to send over patrol to hang around his apartment tonight?”

Harry started to pull his files out and spread them over the counter to seem busy, so maybe Gemma would give up and just leave him alone. He huffed. 

“Why would he need protective detail tonight?” 

“Because scumbag walked this morning.” 

Harry whirled around to face her. “What?? He’s out already?” 

The thud of his heart drowned out Gemma’s response but he had the information he needed. He wasn’t scheduled for release until Monday. They hadn’t planned for this. Louis wasn’t safe yet. 

“Have patrol in the area just incase. I don’t think he knows where Louis is but it might not take him long to find out.” 

Gemma nodded and rushed off without question, probably answering the look of panic on his face. 

Harry grabbed his bag. Things had been set into motion. He had to go. 

“Styles!” 

Sergeant Payne, the ever present thorn in his behind. He blocked the door of his lab preventing his escape. 

“Where’s my report?” 

“Yeah, almost done! But I have to go, it’s an emergency.” 

Harry tried to squeeze past him and was blocked. 

“Emergency, my ass.” Payne spit out. “All these fucking emergencies and disappearances. I’m on to you.” 

Harry took the bait and raised himself to his full height from his usually slouched posture. He took a step forward which made him inches taller. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated every buzz of untethered emotion through them. 

“I don’t know what you think you have on me, but you don’t know shit,” Harry seethed, low enough for only the sergeant to hear. 

“I know you have something to do with all those disappearances and I’m going to find out exactly what you’re up to,” Payne challenged right back. 

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. Stay the fuck away from me.” 

He reared back and slammed his forehead into Sergeant Payne’s before he knew it was coming. It hurt, but he’d been ready for it. He used the moment of stunned shock to push his way out the door and headed for the elevator. 

“What the fuck was that? Styles! Get the fuck back here!” 

Everyone watched in shock as their sergeant grabbed Harry by the arm and landed a punch against his jaw as he turned. The gasps were audible. 

Harry stumbled back in practiced shock while their colleagues moved in to restrain Liam. Harry made a show of touching his fingers to his split lip and pulling them back with a bewildered gasp. 

“What happened? What’s going on!” 

The voices were numerous and Harry easily played the part. 

“I– I don’t know. I was just on my way out and– and he just attacked me.” 

“Bullshit! That mother fucker is up to something!”

Harry let himself be led out and tended to, the rants of Sergeant Liam Payne fading behind him. 

-

Getting the rest of the day off had been a given. That was the easy part after he’d let them fuss over his split lip and bruises. His heart continued to pound as he drove through Miami, searching for a needle in a haystack before that needle was able to prick Louis. 

Louis. 

The surge of everything he’d felt when he’d found out Louis was in danger was confusing and strong. It was in line with everything else he’d been feeling with Louis recently but he still couldn’t make sense of it. 

“Hey Louis. It’s Harry. I know you’re probably still at work for your last day. Just call me when you get this.” 

He cursed when it went straight to voicemail again. He had to believe he was fine, that he was okay. Time to drive over and check for himself was time he didn’t have. Louis’ ex could be anywhere and Harry was already hours behind him. 

He wasn’t prepared for a rush job. He didn’t have a kill room, didn’t have his tools. There were too many uncertain variables, let alone the fact that it was broad daylight. Everything about it was screaming at him to abort but that was something he just couldn’t do. He was committed. 

The address listed for his parole was that of his mother who still lived in Miami. Harry pulled his SUV up to the curb within sight of the house and easily spotted him outside on the porch. His luck ended there when he saw that he wasn’t alone, a group of other men gathered on the steps. 

“Fuck,” Harry cursed and tried Louis again. Voicemail. 

He picked up his phone again and called the non-emergency line to the station. He brought it to his ear and listened to each ring. 

“I’d like to report a bunch of young men causing some trouble,” Harry disguised his voice, “If you could just sent someone to drive by, I think it would break them up?”

He hung up the phone and waited. It was almost comical the way they scattered when the patrol car slowly drove by. Harry ducked down in his seat until they moved on. 

The only one without a reason to run – yet – was still on the porch. Harry popped the hood and got out, propping it open while he pretended to inspect the engine. 

“Hey, you know anything about cars?” he called down the street after making a show to see if there was anyone around that might be able to help him. “I’m hopeless when it comes to these things.” 

He raised his arms and laughed, playing the part of stranded and clueless traveler. After a few minutes, his charade worked and he sauntered over. 

“I might know a few things.” He leaned over to take a look and that’s when Harry struck. 

The needle went in like butter and he caught his wilting body with practiced ease. Perfect. 

He held the syringe in his teeth and quickly hefted him into the back. He clipped the ankle monitor off and tossed it on the curb. Anyone tracking it would think that he cut it himself to flee. 

He looked around as he closed the hatch and then quickly slammed the hood down. No witnesses. 

There had always been a method to his madness – organization and structure. He did his research, proved his victim’s guilt, never strayed from his code.

This wasn’t him. This was impulsive and vindictive, reckless and without a plan. He’d already broken all his rules. He’d made it personal. 

He stopped at his apartment and rushed inside. He grabbed his kill bag and checked the contents shoved inside. It wasn’t a full stock, but it was enough. It would have to be enough. He picked it up and jogged it back out to the car. He threw it in and took off. 

The house Louis had been rescued from was large and tucked away off the beaten path. The property had been seized after the raid and sat empty collecting dust. It had been torn apart from floor to ceiling for evidence and would need considerable work if anyone planned to live in it in the future. 

Those things didn’t matter to Harry. It was perfect for his purposes. 

The sun had set by the time he had his kill room set up and his target restrained to the table he’d dragged in from the kitchen. 

Geared up for the kill with his black gloves, suit and apron, Harry stared down at the man that had caused Louis so much pain. Aside from the crooked scar down his cheek, Harry could see him through Louis’ eyes. Fresh faced and naive, Harry could see him falling under the handsome man’s spell and empty promises. Louis had been easy prey and this man had exploited every bit of his trust and excitement. Harry wanted to spit in his face. 

Harry’s phone rang in his pocket and he pulled it out without hesitation. It was Louis. 

“Hey Lou,” he answered, voice softened from the hard thoughts reeling through his head. 

“Hey.” It was so good to hear his voice, to hear he was safe. “I thought you were coming over tonight.” 

“I’m sorry, Louis. I had something come up. I’m not going to be able to make it.” 

He could almost hear the sound of Louis’ heart breaking and it clenched at his own. 

“It’s my last night in Miami,” Louis sniffed, his voice trembling. “I thought I’d get to spend at least one more night with you.” 

“I know, baby.” 

The pet name slipped out and it felt like his heart stuttered to a stop. Terms of endearment weren’t words that just rolled off his tongue. His mind flashed back through the last few days, few weeks, few  _ months _ . Louis had been slowly chipping away at him until he’d broken through so subtly Harry had been in denial about the change. Louis made him  _ feel _ things, Louis gave him a  _ reason _ to feel. He’d broken every point in his code to lay out the scumbag that hurt Louis on his table and he hadn’t given it a second thought. 

The concept was foreign to him, but he saw it now for what it was. 

“I have some things I have to take care of and then I’ll meet you at the airport in the morning. I’m coming with you.” 

He heard the rush of air through the phone before Louis’ sob of disbelief. 

“Really? You’re coming with me?” 

It made Harry smile wide and genuine to hear the happiness and relief in Louis’ voice. 

“Yeah, I’m coming with you.” Sergeant Payne was closing in on him, his facade was cracking and falling apart and everything about his decision felt like he was running, but he was ready to run. He was ready to give it up because none of it was real.  _ Louis  _ was real. Louis  _ made _ him real. Wherever Louis was, that was where he wanted to be. “I’ve gotta go now, but I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Louis agreed and sniffed before laughing through his tears. 

“I love you,” Harry snuck in right before he ended the call. 

He had some business to attend to before he could give himself to Louis and it was languidly blinking into consciousness on his table. The sudden panic of waking up naked and unable to move usually only happened in two ways. Frozen in fear or violently struggling to get free. This one was the latter. 

“Normally I take my victims for a nice stroll down memory lane, go through all the innocent lives they took – but with you? I don’t think you’ve killed anyone, have you?” The frantic shaking of his head where it was held down with a band of plastic wrap across his forehead seemed genuine enough. “No, killing isn’t your style. Torture is your brand. You want them alive so you can see their pain, watch their suffering.” 

Harry had been circling the table with slow deliberate steps, observing the reactions, the bulging of veins from the struggle. 

“Treating human beings like that,” Harry shook his head with a tsk. “But you still don’t fit my code. I only kill murderers, the ones who got away, the ones who’ll do it again. Just for you I’ll make an exception. Why, you ask? Because you held my boyfriend against his will. You treated him like property. You raped him and beat him and  _ branded _ his skin. So, no, you don’t meet my code, but this is personal.” 

He stepped over and picked up the heavy piece of metal and flipped it over in his hand. 

“I took this little souvenir from evidence,” Harry said as he held up the metal design. He could see the fear of recognition in the wide, unblinking eyes. “Do you know what a brand actually feels like?” 

Harry picked up a long handled clamp and secured it to curve of metal that matched the lines that had been seared into Louis’ skin. He picked up the blow torch he’d brought for just this reason and held the metal in the flame until it was glowing a warm orange colour. It did it all in clear view. 

“Where do you want it?” he asked, holding the glowing metal above his body. “Here?” he asked as he held it over his stomach, then over his thigh. 

Usually he wrapped his victims tightly around the waist with plastic wrap. The lack of clothing was for easy clean up, not because Harry wanted to get a good look at their genitals through the process. He didn’t allow this scumbag to have that dignity, leaving him exposed. 

“Really? Pissed yourself already?” Harry scoffed as he stood at his waist. “Honestly, I think this is a fitting punishment and saves me a few steps. I could just cut it off while you’re still alive, but that just seems a little too gory, even for me.” 

He positioned the brand and pressed it down next to his dick, the hot edge right up against the base. The skin sizzled while he let out shrill screams and struggled violent to pull away. 

Harry pulled it away and nodded in approval. “Now that is what a brand feels like.” 

The room filled with the scent of burning flesh and it brought the image of Louis’ scar into sharp focus. This piece of shit had smelled Louis’ skin being burned off his body and had pressed it in harder. Harry’s vision went red with rage. 

He yanked his favourite knife out and gripped the familiar handle in his hand. He couldn’t hold himself back. He couldn’t savour this kill. He couldn’t even pause for the ritual, for the careful collection of blood for his slide collection.

Two swift steps and he was looming over the table. He raised the knife, adjusted his grip, and plunged into the man’s chest with a satisfied push through the resistance. Blood spread, the tension and anger drained from his body and an audible gasp echoed in the room. 

He whipped his head up and froze the moment he made eye contact with who else but Sergeant Liam fucking Payne. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> orange you glad this isn't a wip?


	2. Chapter 2

“Jesus fucking christ, Styles!” Payne exclaimed on the edge of hysterical, a hand raised to grip his short hair, “I thought you were helping them flee the country or something, not fucking killing them!!!” 

Harry’s hands still gripped the hilt of the knife, the subtle tremors and movement of the last moments of life traveling up through the thin metal and dispersing throughout his body. The thrill and the sense of serene euphoria still flooded his body though he felt naked and exposed with a witness to it. It was like being walked in on mid-orgasm. It was already happening so he had to ride it out. 

He stayed frozen there, posed like wax figure in a horror museum. He’d fucked up. He hadn’t been careful enough. 

Images flashed through his mind of being cuffed and hauled away, of the shocked betrayal on the faces of his coworkers, the bone deep chill of a cell,  _ Louis _ . The body on the table was Harry’s way of setting Louis free and now it would be the thing to destroy him. 

Sergeant Payne had come to his senses enough to survey Harry’s kill room. There was not a thing that screamed amateur in sight, every carefully laid sheet of plastic and strategic piece of duct tape exposed him as the professional that he was. It was all out in the open now, his darkness on display. 

He forced his fingers to release his tight grip on the knife and stumble a few steps back from the table. There wasn’t any excuse he could use, no claims of self defense when premeditation drove everything he did. 

“Holy shit! You’re a fucking psycho! Are you going to kill me too?” 

Payne was fumbling to get his gun out of his holster, his hard, professional demeanor gone like it had never existed. Harry raised his open hands slowly. 

“No, I have no intention of killing you.” 

Even to save himself, Harry knew he wouldn’t do it. Payne was an annoying gnat buzzing around him, a thorn in his side, but he was a good cop, a good person. His instincts were spot on or they wouldn’t be facing each other. 

“Because you know I’ll get you first?” Payne’s gun was now pointed at him in shaky hands that grew more steady by the second. His stance was sure and true by the time he readjusted his grip. Harry braced himself for the hot bite of metal ripping through his body. One wrong move and it would be over. 

“Because you don’t fit my code,” Harry said with his hands still raised. “I only kill those who deserve it. And, even though you’ve tried to make my life hell since you transferred in, you don’t deserve to die for it.” 

“So you only go after criminals who won’t be missed??” 

Harry gave a shake of his head. Payne wasn’t as close to his scent as he’d thought. He’d only caught onto the pattern by accident but had yet to connect the dots. Harry could see the lines slowly coming together right in front of him. 

“The ones who  _ deserve _ it. Those who take innocent lives and think they’ve gotten away with it, think they’re above the law. The ones who will do it again.” 

“So you think you’re some type of vigilante? Some kind of fucked up justification for murder?”

Payne tightened his grip on the gun and Harry waited for it. It could come at any time and Harry was surprisingly calm. 

“I save innocent lives by taking murderers off the streets before they kill again. I have never taken an innocent life.”

“I came here to tell you to stay the fuck away from Louis, that he didn’t deserve to get caught up in another blackmarket scheme. But this? This is so much worse! This whole time your sister was trying to keep him safe and instead she was pushing him right into the arms of a murderer!”

Harry took a step back as Payne advanced. Harry couldn’t dispute it. Louis  _ was _ better off without him, safer with someone else. He didn’t have to worry about that now. Louis would be on a plane in a matter of hours and Harry wouldn’t be in the seat beside him. 

“I would never,  _ ever _ hurt Louis, but you’re right. He deserves more than this, more than me.” 

Payne slowly moved closer until he was beside the table, looking over at the body like he couldn’t look away. They’d been together on countless crime scenes, the worst gore imaginable, yet the Sergeant looked like he might be sick as he swallowed hard. 

“And what did this guy do, then?” He did a quick nod towards the body and looked again but Harry didn’t need to. The anger started to boil up from his toes and his jaw tensed. 

“He hurt Louis.” 

Harry had to pause to be sure that the tremble of emotion in his voice had actually come from him. It continued to surprise him every time he found himself affected by something. It was still so new. 

Payne slowly lowered his weapon and took another look at the man on the table. Recognition flickered over his features. 

“Louis’ gone to live with family. I wanted to make sure this asshole could never hurt him again.” 

“Fuck,” Sergeant Payne dragged his hand down his face and then it was just Liam standing there with him. Harry slowly lowered his hands to his sides. The shift was palpable. 

“You’re fucking with everything I know,” Liam paced to the end of the table and back. “I can’t just let you go for this, but this fucker never should have been released in the first place. I know his intel is bullshit, but he struck a deal with the DA. He should still be rotting in prison for what he did.” 

Harry stayed quiet as he watched Liam’s internal struggle and tried to ignore the pool of blood that had gathered and swelled to reach the edge of the table. Slow drops fell to the floor in an increasing rhythm that eventually became a thin stream. The splatters on the plastic laid over the floor was like art, a visual interpretation of how it felt when he plunged in the blade. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he knew it was Louis leaving for the airport. Their flight was scheduled to take off at six. He could picture him easily, sleep puffy eyes and rumbled clothes, squinting as he tried to smooth down his hair in front of the mirror with the car waiting outside. It would be just a few short hours before he’d board the plane and accept that Harry wasn’t joining him. It was for the best. He’d read about it all in the papers but by then, he’d be starting a new life. Louis would be okay. 

“I will… I will pretend I was never here if you promise to stay away from Louis. Cut ties and never speak to him again, let him live his life, and then come in on Monday and we’ll sort this out.” 

Harry stared at him, at the moral debate that was going on in his eyes. 

Liam closed his eyes and pressed his palms into them like it might be easier if he wasn’t able to see the scene. “Just– just do what you do and I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t want to know anything about it.” 

“Okay,” Harry replied because, really, what else could he say? He’d expected to leave in handcuffs with blue and red lighting the night and a crowd of spectators. 

Liam nodded and turned to leave – probably before he changed his mind. 

“Wait,” Harry called out and Liam paused. “Let me be the one to talk to Gemma, okay?” 

Liam nodded and then slipped out the way that he came. 

Harry was calm, unnaturally serene as he went through the motions. It was something he’d done countless times, something he knew. He dismantled each part of the kill room and packed it up, went over every surface with a fine tooth comb. It all felt like floating through a dream. 

Rain pelted against the windshield as he made his way towards his marina. Even with the wipers on high, it was hard to see the road through the downpour. He was soaked through by the time everything was loaded onto the boat, the lights doing nothing to guide his way out of the little cove. He relied on his GPS to navigate to open waters, his tight grip on the steering wheel the only thing keeping him on board as the tiny craft was tossed around in the massive waves. 

His spot. The graveyard of his victims. The little dot on the GPS said it was so. The usually bright skyline of Miami was muted and barely visible through the storm. Another roll of waves and it was gone.

It was hard to find his footing on the wet and moving floor of the boat as he pushed each of the tightly tied Hefty’s over the edge to sink to the ocean floor. 

A wave crashed over the boat and Harry struggled to hold on, desperately scrambling to keep himself from being washed overboard. He snapped himself into a life vest with slippery fingers but knew it wouldn’t be enough to save him in such rough seas. It would only be fitting to find himself in a watery grave along with all the others he’d put there. 

The engines sputtered, useless against the current and waves that crested high above his head. 

They’d find his car and Liam would know what had happened. Maybe he would expose Harry for what he was, maybe he wouldn’t out of respect for Gemma. Louis would hear it through the grapevine, his plane probably delayed and sitting on the tarmac as it waited for for the skies to clear. He would probably look through the window for him until the tires left the pavement and the seat beside him remained empty. 

It was all for the best. 


	3. Chapter 3

-five years later- 

The early morning air was cool and crisp in the hazy new light of dawn, a halo of alabaster chasing the darkness of night up from the horizon. The chill made the steam rising from the matching coffee mugs thick as it curled up to disappear into the air and cling to unshaven whiskers when brought to the lips. The fog was settling over the water, the dock emerging from the mist along the shore with the paddle boat tied up and suspended on the still surface of the lake. The swimming dock was anchored far enough out that only the top of the mounted American flag was visible where it hung damp with the morning dew, limp with no wind to carry it. 

The noise of nature was quiet in the little clearing nestled in amongst the trees. The eerie call of a loon echoed from somewhere across the lake, the haunting sound raising goosebumps in the stillness. There were still crickets chirping and the occasional sound of a branch cracking bounced off the tree trunks as heavy birds took flight. There had been a few eagles in the area over the summer, the sound of them launching into the air more distinct than others. 

It was Louis’ favourite time of day at the cabin. 

The screened in porch was small – only room for a couple chairs and a small round table – but it was enough. He pulled the sleeves of his oversized sweater down to his fingers and curled both hands around his mug for the warmth. Fall was swiftly approaching which meant his serene mornings would soon be taken away by the first day of school. The elementary school where Louis taught was in the nearest town which was still a bit of a drive, especially with winter weather factored in. He’d be well on his way before the sun crested on those days and no time to spare on the others. 

He hoped the baby would be sleeping through the night by then. Crawling back into the comforting warmth of his bed after his morning tea wouldn’t be an option when there were young minds waiting to be shaped. The freedom of summer had left him spoiled. 

Louis set his mug down on the table and glanced over to its twin, the liquid cooling next to his own. He curled up in the chair with his knees to his chest and stretched his sweater down over them for warmth. Even in the summer, the nights and mornings were always chilly so far north. His collection of sweaters and hoodies and fuzzy robes with matching slippers had grown since his days in the stifling heat of Miami. He was better suited for comfy clothes and sweater paws, anyway.

The distant yet familiar hum of a boat motor steadily grew louder as it made its way closer to shore. Starting miles away over the massive body of water, it droned on in his direction until it abruptly cut off somewhere just out of sight.

Louis picked up his mug again and sipped while he watched the boat slowly emerge through the fog like a ghost ship out at sea. The wake from the boat’s previous speed reached the water’s edge and lapped in a gentle rhythm, the sound louder than it would be at any other time of day. It made the craft bob with the small waves as it pulled up to the vacant side of the dock. 

He watched over the rim of ceramic as the boat was tied off and a figure appeared on the dock hefting a black canvas duffle over his shoulder. His footsteps echoed against the wooden planks as he walked it’s length in heavy work boots. The grass was still wet with dew and a path was left behind him as the man made his way up the gentle slope of yard to the cabin. He climbed the four steps to the screened in porch slowly as if each one drew attention to the tired ache of his muscles. 

The door squeaked when it was pulled open, something Louis had complained about for months until he’d grown used to it. It just wouldn’t feel like home if they took some WD-40 to it now. It was part of their cabin’s character and a sound he anticipated when Harry was due back from the lake.

“How’d it go?” Louis asked as he looked up at Harry’s tired eyes and scruffy beard that still grew in a bit patchy. The tip of his nose and his cheeks were rosy from the bite of cold wind over the water. His lips were cool against Louis’ that were tea-warmed when he leaned down to press a soft kiss against them. 

That was all the answer he received which he took as a good sign, watching him for any other indication as he set his bag down on the floor with a gentle clunk and pulled off his black leather gloves by the tip of each finger. 

Harry picked up the second mug and Louis could tell that he’d made it back just in time for his tea in the small window between perfect temperature and cold by the content look on his face. Harry relaxed into the chair and they both sipped while they stared out across the water in comfortable silence. 

“Baby still asleep?” Harry eventually broke it when Louis’ mug was empty but still holding enough warmth for his hands.

“Both of them.”

They sat quietly for a little longer until Louis’ eyelids started to droop. Harry picked up on the cue and rose to lift his bag onto his shoulder. He held open the door that led into the small kitchen, hand naturally touching the small of Louis’ back as he went in ahead. They moved around each other easily in their space, both setting their empty mugs in the sink next to the baby bottles, sippy cups and rubber coated spoons that collected there each day. 

Harry disappeared with his bag and reappeared from the bathroom shower warm with damp hair once Louis had already crawled back into bed. They gravitated towards each other in the middle of the mattress when Harry joined him beneath the covers until he was snuggled up against Louis’ back and his lips were close enough to drag slow kisses down his neck. 

They made love in deep, slow motions in the still of the morning, savouring every moment of sweet borrowed time they had alone together. They covered each other’s moans with their mouths and snuggled back in together without even bothering to clean themselves up with more than a few swipes with the edge of the sheet. 

“Have to go into town today, almost out of formula,” Louis mumbled on the sluggish edge of sleep. 

Harry gave a small hum of acknowledgement and burrowed his face into the back of Louis’ shaggy hair. Louis would never give these moments up for anything, even for the sleep he could have instead with two small children running them ragged. It was why Louis got himself up at the ass crack of dawn. 

“I drank the last of the juice, too,” Harry mumbled against Louis’ warm skin, just moments from slipping under. “Oh yeah. And add some heavy duty Hefty bags to the list.” 

Louis nodded and wondered if they should make the drive out to Costco if Harry needed supplies. Harry’s light snores were already starting up behind him so he snuggled in and drifted off to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> [here's a tumblr post! please share if you enjoyed!](https://jaerie.tumblr.com/post/189016678367/tonights-the-night-e-21k-by-jaerie-tonights)


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